


Hounding

by Beleriandings



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 11:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19019341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: Before they confront Orannis, the Disreputable Dog wants Mogget to set a few facts straight.





	Hounding

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking fic requests on tumblr, to celebrate 1000 followers there!! This one was for an anon, who requested someone with the Dog and Mogget.

“When will you admit it?”

Mogget rolled his eyes, hoping that the Dog would stop following him if he left the vicinity of the makeshift campsite. “This again.”

The Dog, however, did no such thing, but kept on following him to the border of the trees, sniffing at the soft loam for a moment before looking up to meet Mogget’s eyes. “You knew what I meant immediately. So yes, this again.”

“I know most things” said Mogget. “You know who I am, correct? And you know the wearying story of why I serve the Abhorsens?”

“I know _some_ things” said the Dog, with a slight grin. “I’m quite good at guessing the ones I don’t know, too.”

“Then you know that there is no…reason for me to…I don’t know. I am unsure exactly what you are accusing me of.”

“You make it sound so dramatic. I am accusing you of caring about them.” She gestured with her tail, at where Lirael was standing at the edge of the nearby thicket, her bow aimed at the wheeling birds above. Sam was hunched over nearby, piling sticks in a meticulous pyramid and gathering kindling from the brush, ready to light with a spell.

Mogget scoffed. “I might bring up a hairball at the mere thought. I repeat; you know who I am, and my… _arrangement_ with the Abhorsens and their extended family, correct? How they have had me bound and enslaved with scant hope of emancipation for centuries?”

“I know _of_ that” said the Dog. Her toothy smile had not dropped, and she had started wagging her tail a little, of all things, Mogget noticed with annoyance. “But I think there’s something else there. Something that has been there for centuries now, and you won’t admit it.” She tilted her head. “Beings like you…they’re never all one thing, you know. You can admit it.”

“There are no other beings like me” said Mogget.

“Actually, I was under the impression there are, or at least were, several.”

Mogget narrowed his eyes. “Did you want something?”

“I want you to make the right choice, when the time comes.” She turned her head back to Sam and Lirael, now both crouched beside the small fire, sheltering it from the wind. “I want you to see what you have. You care if they live or die, I know you do.”

“Why?”

“Because I worry…” the Dog’s eyes went distant for a moment, before coming back into focus, the Charter marks on her collar flaring brighter for a fraction of a second. “I am afraid that at some point  soon, whether you care about these people or not will become…rather relevant, to more than just you and your pride.”

Mogget affected a skeptical meow. “Improbable.”

“You’re going to have to make a choice, one day soon. And I just hope that you’ll make the right one, for all our sakes.”

There was a short, loaded silence, punctuated by a rumble of thunder from beyond the darkening hills.

“…Counterpoint” said Mogget delicately, “have you considered that perhaps I care if _these_ ones live or die because they appear to have some kind of important destiny.” He flicked his tail over towards Lirael and Sam, and then towards the ever-present thunderclouds in the south-east, lightning flickering on the horizon as dusk drew in. “I don’t particularly want to be reduced to ash and memories just yet…and it may be that they _can_ actually stop it, I’ll give you that.”

“Really? That’s the only reason.”

“Of course. Is more required?”

“No. But it would help my peace of mind.”

“Well, I am afraid you’ll be disappointed. The Abhorsens are my jailers and their associates are just as bad, but them saving the world is not something I would turn up my nose to.”

The Dog smiled. “Counterpoint: just the other day you travelled on Sam’s shoulders, eating all the insects that came close enough to bite him. That doesn’t seem very driven by pure self-interest, in keeping him alive so he can save the world.”

“I do get bored, you know. I could hardly let a mechanical frog beat me in the insect catching, could I? I do still have some pride left.”

“What about the time you scouted ahead to find the dryest place to camp?”

“Purely self-interest. You may not mind living with the awful feeling of damp fur, but I would prefer not to.”

“What about the time Lirael kicked off her blankets when we were camping last week? I saw you tuck them back around her. You beat me to it.”

Mogget’s fur bristled, as he remembered that night, seeing the Dog loom up out of the darkness. He had dropped the corner of the blanket from his mouth as though it was red-hot – as though his body really was the weak cat-form it appeared that could be hurt by such things, but he was not too proud to admit mortal forms did tend to rub off on one’s use of metaphor, even in one’s internal monologue – and jumped backwards despite himself, and borne the Look she had given him. It had been quite embarassing, and now she was giving him the same Look. “Humans are fragile and weak” Mogget hissed. “She can’t save the world from utter annihilation if she catches a chill.”

“Debatable. I have faith in my Mistress.”

“How nice for you.”

They were silent for a little while longer, and Mogget was about to turn and leave, when the Dog spoke again. “Let me ask you this, then.”

“…If you absolutely must.”

“Why did you come back?”

“What?”

“After…Her. Why did you come back?”

“To see it through. Because I am bound.” He smiled, this time, showing all his teeth in the gathering dusk. “Besides, if an Abhorsen is to die I always hate to see someone else kill them.”

The Dog’s hackles rose at this, a low growl in her throat, which had of course been Mogget’s intention. But a moment later, she seemed to subside a little, furrowed her brow, a smile at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, really? How many have _you_ killed, then?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Personally, I mean. There must be a few. You claim that sometimes they’re stupid enough to take off your collar, and I’m sure when they do you’re always quick to exact your vengeance before being bound anew. How many Abhorsens have you _killed_?”

Mogget blinked. “…Several.”

“What were their names?”

“….My memory grows dull over the centuries, and - ”

“Liar.”

“Well, there was Vanariel, the seventeenth -”

“No. Vanariel died in a fire in Belisaere, destroying the Hands that the necromancer who owned the house planned to set loose in the Palace, but trapping herself inside with them.”

“Espherael -”

“Slain by a mordicant, six hundred odd years ago. It’s in all the history books. Try harder.”

“Arysiel was always troublesome to me, so I - ”

“Arysiel died peacefully in bed, the first Abhorsen ever to do so.”

“Well, there was also the young son of Gethael, who was fool enough to remove my collar-”

“Drowned in a storm surge in the Ratterlin. A tragic accident. And you know it.” The Dog gave a roll of her shoulders that was almost a shrug, at Mogget’s infuriated hiss. “You see, I recently spent several years living in a library, with a young woman I have suspected to have Abhorsen blood from almost the moment she summoned me. I’ve been reading.”

Mogget gave a dramatic sigh. “Well what do you want to hear? No, I have not killed an Abhorsen. The closest I ever came was almost plucking Sabriel’s eye out, about twenty years ago. But that does not mean that there is any truth to your…accusations of - ”

“Mogget! Dog!” Sam’s voice cut into their conversation, and Mogget quickly broke off, even though his voice had been too low for Sam’s ears to hear. “We’re cooking the wood pigeons Lirael shot…we’ll save some uncooked the way you like it, Mogget. And Dog, we’re roasting it the way you like. The Sendings even packed some honey for glazing, back at the House.”

“We’re coming” replied the Dog, barely hiding her amusement at the way Mogget twitched. _Curse her_ , he thought. “In a moment.”

“All right. It’ll be ready soon.”

Mogget hesitated for a moment, but couldn’t avoid the Dog catching his eye. “If you say anything” he said, trying for haughtiness as he turned away towards the fire and the smell of cooking already on the breeze, “it’s _you_ I will eat. I will have no mercy.”

Mogget heard her strange, barking laugh echoing after him as he made his way through the grass.


End file.
